The Late Shift - Part 1
by RubyD
Summary: M&M, Summer fic, AU. My version on what should have happened in the summer. Maria and Michael try to avoid each other, with mixed results.
1. Default Chapter Title

"The Late Shift" - Part 1  
By Ruby  
  
Dear Diary… no, that's not right.  
  
Hey Journal. Not that either.  
  
Wasssssuup?! Uh, maybe not. Back to square one…  
  
Dear Diary,  
  
My summer did not start well. Actually, let me rephrase that, it did not come anywhere near how I wanted it to start out with. You could pack your bags, hop a spaceship, and fly forever and still not cover the space between what I really thought would happen and me now in my Maria-stuck-with-the-harsh-reality-of-life mode.   
  
Damn, my pencil just broke. But I did find another one, or how could I still be writing now? Yeah, lame. I know Liz keeps a journal of all this stuff because, you know, spilling your guts onto an unbiased, unexpressive, and silent piece of paper is supposed to be very therapeutic. So I'm trying it out. It's not like I could go to the school counselor and do the whole lying down on the couch and "Let's express our f-e-e-l-i-n-g-s" kind of thing.  
  
Back to the "In the beginning my summer sucked" deal. For one thing, I thought I would be with Michael. No, wait; make that the whole thing. This shopper is filing a complaint; may I get a refund? No, of course not. He's not a mere boy toy… but if he were just an item on sale I'd be dragging his sorry butt back to the store to get his program rewired.  
  
Jerk. Where does he get the idea that he runs our entire relationship? Bicker here, bicker there, grope and make out in the eraser room, share a piece of licorice, survive death way too many times together… staring into his warm, serious brown eyes… kissing those lips… Damn those lips! Those soft, wonderful, caring lips that I *badly* need to feel right now. Ok. Stop. Deep breath--don't lose it Maria, those were the same ones that went "Hey, I finally say I love you but whoops! I may be a danger to you so buh-bye!"   
  
He loves me? Oh, Michael… I want him back.  
  
I know he killed somebody but, not to be too blunt, that sicko agent man deserved it. That guy's karmic payback was long overdue. Look at what Pierce did to Max! Liz told me over the phone what she saw when she kissed him and trust me--it's so absolutely not a good thing to hear while trying to light incenses, that burn patch is never getting off my bed spread.  
  
I don't talk to him that much but it's good to know, and kind of awkward, that Michael still works at the Crashdown. How else is he going to get income? I think it would be better if I take the late shift, though. There would be only three other employees, including Liz, working and I would have an excuse to sleep through the morning for the next three months.  
  
Yup, just for less communing with the customers and more sleep.  
  
What, don't you believe me?  
  
I swear that's all my reasons.  
  
All right, all right, I'm a liar! What's wrong with me? Three sentences and the truth come spilling out. I love Michael, but I… I just don't think I can handle being next to him four days a week and know that he doesn't want to be with me. That he supposedly can't be with me. I want to be with him *but*… always that but… I force myself away from him.  
  
Now what will karmic payback say to that?  
  
***  
  
"So how are you doing?" Max asked Michael later that afternoon as he drove up to the sidewalk.  
  
"Fine," he answered, climbing into the jeep. He had phoned Max for a ride to work. "To the Crashdown, Captain Evans."  
  
"Hey, if I'm Captain shouldn't I give the orders?" Max rolled his eyes at his friend's usual wisecrack display to avoid something. "Why? I thought you worked there at three."  
  
"Maria couldn't handle. I changed shifts."  
  
  
To Be Continued  



	2. Default Chapter Title

"The Late Shift" - Part 2  
By Ruby  
  
Hood scratched and wind blowing through her hair from non-bullet proof windows Maria finally thumped up to the Crashdown's parking lot in her tired, in great need of gas, but reliable Jetta. For a dumpy old car with a short warranty, it had survived through much more than she would have ever expected. Hijackings, semi-kidnappings, car chases, and being fired on by uber-secret government agents--the works! That car had been through it all and could still run on a nearly empty tank. 'Not bad,' she thought. 'I should be on a commercial.'  
  
It was a fine day. The sun was a few hours away from setting, air crisp and light, and her first real success recovering from her Michael addiction. That evening, Maria was beginning the late shift--the time from dinner to closing and cleaning. They really needed a 12-step program for the broken hearted in Roswell, Alien-addicted Anonymous maybe or a Just-Say-No-to-Lust group. But she felt free and renewed knowing that she wouldn't have to tiptoe around her ex--yes, her ex--boyfriend for the next hours.  
  
So she cheerfully got out of the car proud of the fact she could think of Michael as an "Ex". He loved her and she him, but the past was the past and she was going to move on. If there was a 12-step, Maria felt she would be on the seventh.  
  
Or so she thought.  
  
After changing into her uniform and preparing herself for a day of work, Maria happened to glance over the employee checklist for the night. Her eyes scanned it lazily, not bothering to fully understand it, but when the meaning finally reached her brain she gave a double take. And then another. Taking one more glance at the list she rubbed her eyes to make sure she wasn't going blind.  
  
Yup, plain as bagel, Michael was also working the late shift. Her sunny and light mood changed to shock and denial so quickly it left her speechless. Seventh to the first, just like that.  
  
Footsteps sounded behind her then stopped abruptly. "You!" said a surprised voice.  
  
"You," Maria answered blandly, turning around to face Michael. Her heart beat rapidly in her chest as she looked into his straight gaze, feeling as though she had been deprived of something. Maybe, she thought, I should get a patch for this.  
  
***  
  
"What are you doing here?" Michael asked, searching for words to fill the moments of silence that had dragged between them.  
  
"What does it look like?" she said, tilting her head in that adorable way she could. "I'm working."  
  
More silence.  
  
"So… How are you?"  
  
"Fine. Just peachy. You?"   
  
"I'm good," he nodded, then stared at the floor like a guilty child. In her eyes he had seen embarrassment, anger, and maybe just the tiniest bit of hope.  
  
"Great." Maria did the same, picking at some non-existent piece of lint off her light green uniform.  
  
Michael was more than surprised to see her, wasn't she supposed to work early afternoons? Did she follow him? He didn't know what to think, but sighed and straightened. "Look, Maria--"  
  
"Michael!" came Brian's voice from the kitchen. He was the other employee working that shift along with Liz. "Where are those potatoes? Fries don't cook themselves!"  
  
"Um, uh…" He looked down and spotted the bag he had completely forgotten by his side. "Just wait!"  
  
"Well, time for work," she said lightly. Maria quickly walked towards the front of the Crashdown, trying to avoid touching him even the slightest bit at all cost. As she past Michael he caught the soft scent of herbal shampoo she used. Roses and cinnamon.  
  
"Right." And with those words they went off on their short, but none the less separate, ways.  
  
***  
  
"Liz, how could you?" Maria hissed quietly to her friend at the counter.  
  
"I'm sorry," she answered, punching up money into the cash register. "I didn't know! All my dad said was a friend was working with us." Liz frowned slightly at the total that came up on the small screen. "Hmm, we're off by a few dollars."  
  
Maria gave a long-suffering sigh. "Who cares about money at a time like this! I changed my schedule so I could get away from Michael, not tag along like an obsessive fan." She paused for moment. "Hey, you don't think he's following me around, do you?"  
  
"You're talking about Michael?" Liz looked at her skeptically.  
  
"Well, why not? Maybe he's making sure I won't say anything about Czechoslovakians, or to see if anyone's spying on us, or find out if I'm not dating anyone…  
  
"Maria!"  
  
"…Or I can dream on." She sighed and tucked her short hair behind her ears. "Are you sure I can't change my shift again?"  
  
"After all the times we've already switched around or skipped out because of 'emergencies' that I can't really explain to my parents? No." Her parents were the ones who set the schedule, since they owned the Café. Liz smiled sympathetically. "Sorry, but I'm sure that you can handle it. All you have to do is your job and speak in one word sentences."  
  
"That won't be hard. Between awkward silences and switching from foot to foot all Michael and I have in common is 'hi' and 'bye'."  
  
As if to prove Maria's statement the guy in question slid an order of fries and Vulcan-hot-dogs through the serving window to her. "Hey. Table four." When he returned to flipping burgers Maria made a little frustrated whine in the back of her throat. Grabbing the plate of food she went in search of its owner.  
  
***  
  
Michael reflected in silence as he cooked, aware enough to not scald himself with the hot oil. So many things have changed over the last year from the others finding out that Max, Isabel, and he were not what they were to discovering his destiny. The destiny thing was the biggest change, but Maria came near the top, and killing…  
  
A bubble of heat splashed onto his fingers, making him drop the skillet he was holding. Rushing over to the sink he place the hand under running water to cool it. He kept it there until the sting went away, leaving only a tender spot. He returned to flipping.  
  
He couldn't help it; Michael couldn't stop feeling guilty every time he thought about Agent Pierce. It haunted him, especially at night when there was only darkness to take his mind off the memory--the burst of rage that swept through him, the feel of life fleeing away from a body, how he wanted it to happen, and the knowledge that he could do it again.  
  
When he wanted to.  
  
He just hoped Maria wouldn't be there when he did.  
  
"Something bothering you?" Brian asked as they cooked, eyeing Michael cautiously through ridiculously long, bleached bangs.  
  
"You don't know the half of it," he replied.   
  
"Come on! It's that girl Maria, ain't it?"  
  
He looked up, surprised. "How do you know?"   
  
"Face it. She's young, she's blond, she's hot, but you don't say a thing to her."  
  
"I have nothing to say." Michael frowned in annoyance. He didn't know Brian all too well, but he got the impression the man was trying to goad him.  
  
"What? Are you mute? If she was twenty-four, hell, I'd ask her to come with me when I skip out of town."  
  
"But she's not," he grumbled, temper rising. He looked down at the plate he was holding, trying to remember if it was the whole order. "I'm not interested, quit bothering me."  
  
"Nuh-uh," the man grinned. "I see those looks you give her. Don't you care a bit?"  
  
"Not at all!" Michael heard a small cough and glanced up to see Maria staring straight at him. From the expression on her face he was sure she had heard that last part. "Maria--" he started.  
  
"Hi," she interrupted quickly, taking the fried chicken. "Bye." She stalked off.  
  
He had hurt her. Damn, but it did make his life easier. Maybe now she would try to keep from following him. He sighed, again feeling like a guilty child. When had he ever taken it easy?  
  
  
To Be Continued 


	3. Part 3

  
"The Late Shift" - Part 3  
By Ruby  
  
Three days later, closing time at the Café. The last customer had left an hour ago and Maria, Michael, and Liz were cleaning up. Barely a word passed between anyone as they mopped and washed. Brian had already given up and gone home, saying something about employee negligence.   
  
'Spotless,' Maria though as she wiped the counter for the fourth time. There really was nothing left to do since all the dishes were washed, tables cleaned, and everything accounted for. Well, nothing other than taking a peek at Michael then quickly looking away when he'd glanced up. God, she wished she could see him smiling just one time they were around each other, it was if they were in the middle of a nuclear winter with all the cold shoulders happening.   
  
'I can't work like this,' she told herself. For the last three days working the late shift with Michael the most they that exchanged were two-syllable answers that involved if there were extra napkins in the holders.   
  
"Hey, guys," Liz called from the hallway. "I'm going to lock up the back. You two finish up and leave whenever you want."  
  
"Sure," Maria answered before her friend was out of hearing range. She heard a small crash from the kitchen. Worried, she rushed over to find Michael having a problem hauling a large bag of raw stuff-she-did-not-want-to-know over to the walk-in fridge. "Need a hand?"  
  
She wondered if he would even respond at all. Michael glanced from her to the bag, then back to her. "I can do it, but if you want to help that badly…" he admitted lightly.  
  
"Gee, how generous of you." She shot him a look, but at least they were talking. "Okay, one, two, three!" Maria took the other end of the sack and the both of them quickly carried it over to the newly installed freezer. "This thing's heavy!"  
  
"Really? I didn't notice," he wheezed as he used one hand to hold it and the other to open the heavy metal door. They rushed in, letting the door swing shut behind them. Clicking on the single light bulb to see they finally rested the bag on the far-left corner of the chilly room.  
  
***  
  
"Maria? Michael?" Liz asked as she stepped back into the Crashdown. When no one answered she took a quick look around and assumed that they both had left. Walking to the front door she exited and locked it behind her.  
  
***  
  
"Uh-oh," Michael said as he tried to open the door of the freezer.  
  
A brief feeling of dread washed over Maria, like the kind that told your body to brace itself for bad news. "What's the 'uh-oh' for? Nothing good ever happens when someone says 'uh-oh.'"  
  
"It won't open." He tried for a moment to make the thin, cold handle bar to move but to no avail. The entrance stayed neatly jammed into its metal frame.  
  
"Here, let me try. Where's the doorknob on this thing?" Maria asked as she tried to shove the fridge open. When it wouldn't give she started to panic. "There's no doorknob! Why didn't they put in doorknobs?"  
  
"Calm down," he ordered, trying to sound reasonable. "We need to think."  
  
"What's there to think about? We're locked in."  
  
There was a moment of silence as they both digested their fate. And after that moment they began frantically pounding on the door, calling for help.  
  
***  
  
Isabel rubbed her eyes tiredly and found her brother flipping through late night movies.  
  
"Hey," she said softly with the voice of one who just woke up. "Why are you up?"  
  
"Didn't feel like sleeping." The small circles under Max's eyes gave away his lie, but she accepted it anyway. He'd been unable to sleep well ever since they discovered what their destiny foretold.  
  
"Did you give Michael a ride home?"  
  
"He never called. Maria probably drove him."  
  
Isabel nodded then wearily shuffled into the kitchen for a drink.  
  
***  
  
"Help! Someone please get me out of here!" Maria slapped the metal door until her hands were red. This situation could not get any worse in her opinion. Of all the people she would want to be stuck in a four-by-six feet room with, it had to be the person she most definitely not.  
  
"You've been shouting for an hour," Michael snapped. The noise was giving him a headache, and the constant chill didn't help. "Save your breath, Liz is gone. No one will find us until morning."  
  
"At least I'm trying to do something while you sit there like a rhubarb and vegetate."   
  
"You know I can't open locks like the others."  
  
"Figures." She sighed in disgust and leaned her back against the door.  
  
"Hey, it's not my fault we're stuck together!"  
  
"Oh yeah? This wouldn't have happened if you hadn't followed me to my shift."  
  
"Me? Follow you? Why would I want to do that? You're the one who stalked me to the meat locker."  
  
"I was trying to help you, you big goober!"  
  
"Ooh, goober! Big words for a little girl."  
  
"Oh, shut up," Maria spat angrily. She had never known a person that could rile her so much in her life.  
  
"Uh, that would be a 'no,'" he answered, equally ticked.  
  
"Why do you have to be so difficult?!"  
  
"Haven't you heard? I'm complex."  
  
"Yeah, a superiority complex."  
  
"And what if I am?"  
  
"Jerk."  
  
"Brat."  
  
"Toad."  
  
"Shrew."  
  
"Ok, fine, since we seemed to have de-aged in maturity I say we just sit our own corners, don't talk, and wait for someone to find us." She sat down at the wall directly across from him--probably the furthest spot she could get in the tiny space.  
  
Michael leaned back with eyes closed; it was the very near picture of relaxation. "Sounds good to me."  
  
  
To be Continued 


End file.
